Lovely Lady
by BethyBathory
Summary: A 1985 retelling of the movie Pretty Woman. Companion piece to He Loves Me; He is Here. Technically can be read alone, but revolves around OCs introduced in the prior phic. This is the tale of poor Colette and her unwitting journey through social striation.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello again! This is the companion piece for He Loves Me; He is Here. While technically in the Phantom universe, this story follows Colette on her own adventures of finding love. Erik and Christine show up a couple of times, but this is not their story. This technically stands alone, but if you haven't read He Loves Me, give it a try! It's classic ExC. This story is a retelling of the movie Pretty Woman, which is a retelling of My Fair Lady, which is a retelling of the play Pygmalion. (I like playing with tropes!) Warning: BEAUCOUP MATURE content right from the beginning. Please enjoy!

~o~

Lovely Lady

~o~

Chapter 1

The Meeting

Colette's head slammed against the wooden door with a sickening crack. She moaned her protests, but stinking, calloused hands gripped her by the hair and pulled her to her feet.

"Not. Good. Enough!" The hands slammed her back down onto the dirty floor. "I ain't gonna keep y'alive if y'dont earn your worth!"

One swift kick to the ribs and she was left alone on the filthy steps. She looked up, one eye clouded with blood from the cut on her forehead. The night was quiet and the few people on the streets intentionally kept their faces away from the scene. She sighed and crawled to her feet and entered the shabby excuse for a brothel.

When she stumbled through the doors, she encountered a fellow whore, shaking her head. "Colette, heavens girl, come! Come get cleaned up! There is a stag night which just came in ten minutes ago,

and we need all of our hands on deck!" She informed, frantically, shooing Colette ;upstairs to attend to the blood and the inevitable bruising.

The grease paint would would cover the redness, and if she styled her hair just so, she could hide the swelling laceration on her forehead. Rouge blended into cheeks, deep red lipstick stained lips. Curly brown mane of hair pinned up wildly. Her corset was cinched tight over a fresh, low-cut shift and

Her white pantaloons were voluminous and starched. She disliked pantyhose and her legs were hairless and unblemished, so she went without, something her fellow sisters teased her about being too lazy to put on what was just to come off again. On top of all of this, a red velvet gown.

She was ready to entertain.

When she descended to the bar, there was a group of seven men, all younger; clearly celebrating one of their own who was getting married soon. The man in question was a reasonably handsome fellow, with blond hair and expensive clothing. They had obviously come from a more reputable establishment before switching to here. Several other women were already at it, holding court among the men.

As Colette examined the scene, she noticed one of the men that seemed slightly out of place; a touch older than the rest of them, with dark hair streaked lightly with grey and a fine tuxedo hugging a tall and enviable form. He seemed to be avoiding some of the women, interacting with a noticeable layer of discomfort. He busied himself with fetching drinks for the men.

The next time he dashed off to the bar, Colette was there, lounging on a bar stool, facing away from the bartop and using it an arm rest.

"So, you're the dandy fop of the group, hm?" she said to him with a good humored attitude..

He gave her a smile as he shook his head. "No, just the one who would see them home safe at the end of the night," he commented, leaning against the bar, lingering.

"The newly married conscientious one then?" She raised one eyebrow.

"No, I'm not married. I just...How do I put it, a man becomes a certain age and doesn't see the need to carouse as the youth here does."

Her other eyebrow met the first. He wasn't that much older, the way he was referring to himself a little over the top. "Ah. I understand, sir. No need to say more." She looked pointedly down at his crotch with a sympathetic expression. _The impotent were always the attractive ones in the room!_ Colette thought with regret.

The man blinked, stammering and sputtering as he spoke hastily. "No, no, Mlle. I am more than capable in that regard." He paused, giving her an uncertain smile. "Can I get you a drink?"

She looked him up and down, lingering briefly at his long, ungloved hands, then traveling back up yo meet his eyes. "It would be my pleasure to," she answered in a smoky voice.

"What will you have?" The man asked as he gave her a warm smile, slipping onto a barstool, enjoying her company away from the rowdy party that was going on around them.

Her eyes twinkled and she turned her head, "Pierre, my usual, please." She turned back to him and cocked her head.

"You are not a homosexual or a dandy, you're not newly wedded, you're not impotent. So what _are_ you, monsieur?"

"I'm a business man," he said, somewhat vaguely. "I have a firm which owns several factories outside of Avignon. One could say that I am devoted to my work." He offered her, sipping his wine.

"Hmm. it's usually the business addicts I see the most for easy female company."

"I've no time to court anyone...Mlle...?" he asked.

"That's the entire point, _mon cher_ ," Colette laughed and leaned a bit closer to him. "I am Mlle whoever you want me to be tonight," she hung on that last word and scooted closer to him.

"And what is it usually?" He asked, loosening up a little bit, leaning in slightly before sipping his wine once more.

She watched him take a sip and cocked her head. "Colette. And do I have the same pleasure, sir?"

"Matthieu." He answered, reaching to take her hand. He kissed the back of her hand, holding it in his own, lingering. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Colette laughed as she let him do that. "We got ourselves a gentleman, here!" Her drink arrived. it was a small glass of green liquid which she swallowed in one go.

He laughed in return and watched her down the drink. "There we are. And I try to be a gentleman; even in this rowdy company," he commented, motioning back to the lads behind him.

One of the men, the groom-to-be saw the gesture and approached them,. He was far more drunk than anyone else in the room. "Is this old codger harassing you? Need a real man? C'mon dear, I've only got one more night of freedom," he taunted her, reaching for her at the last comment.

Colette did not shrink back, but instead leaned into his hand which snaked around her ribs.

Matthieu watched this, narrowing his gaze for a firm moment. "Easy lad, you have plenty of ladies over there; no need to steal this one from me." He replied, placing a hand on his shoulder; hoping that he would retreat back towards the three women who were beckoning to him.

Colette didn't know why the thought of staying with this strange proudish man made her feel so satisfied. Yet, she allowed the man to push the younger boy away even though she probably would have made more money with the fiance.

The boy relented. "Fine, I'll let you have one, but no more." He teased; clapping him hard on the back as he retreated to the three women who had been previously entertaining him.

"Perhaps I'm not as fine a chaperone for a proper stag night as I may think. I'm far too selfish."

Colette smiled deeply at Matthieu's words and motioned for the bartender for more libations. She saddled up close to him and ran a long fingertip down his sleeve, looking up at him between her lashes.

Matthieu dropped his gaze, looking back to her. A hand raised and traced over her chin, then jaw; before falling away.

"You are quite beautiful..." he commented,.

"I thank you, sir. How about another drink?" She asked and turned to the bartender. "two fairies, if you please."

He nodded, toasting her when the drink was passed their way. "So tell me, what are some of your interests?" It was a strange question to ask a woman of the night and Colette gave him an amused look.

"I would think the interests of a girl like me rather obvious.

"Yes, I could imagine. But tell me something that you've never shared with another...client." he asked, downing the drink.

Her smile froze a bit in surprise. She thought about it for a moment.

After a long minute Colette answered softly. "I am in love with a man," she said simply. "What is something you haven't told those fools?"

He arched his brow at that. "Hmm. How does that work with your profession?" He asked, before answering for himself. "I loved a woman, only to lose her to a rival." He gave a faint, slightly distant smile.

Colette shared his jolt of sorrow. Feeling a sense of comradery, she signed to the bartender. The bartender rushed over and slid the bottle of absinthe to her. She refilled their glasses - a more impressive amount this time.

"To the ones left behind," She cheered with dark humor, handing him his drink.

He clinked his glass with hers. "At his rate we will be seeing stars." He laughed at that, letting a hand trace over hers, slipping up her arm.

"Hmm," she purred. "I could take you much farther than that." She grabbed for his hand. "If you like, I can show you."

"I would...like that." he answered, a smile on his face, his gaze tracing over her slowly, taking in each curve of her figure.

Colette took the bottle of absinthe in one hand and his arm in the other and pulled him into another room. This one was less opulent - only dark wood and steep stairs. Up two flights, Colette pushed through a heavy oak door, picking up a lantern on the way.

The door led to a mainly flat roof. It was very much not the style of the period, but it allowed her to set up blankets and pillows in a small redundant alcove left by a lazy architect.

When they emerged onto the roof, Matthieu looked out over the horizon of the city, taking in the sights. "You were not making that up- the stars, the lights of the city. It's a perfect night." He watched her set up the pillows and blankets, and then moved to sink down next to her when she finished.

Once seated, Colette's smile became more genuine, spreading widely across her face. "I like to come up here sometimes. Just to think and to watch the lights."

"I can see why. This city is incredible." Matthieu slid a bit closer to her. "So...would it be a let down if I told you that you are the first woman of the night that I have conversed with?"

"Not at all," she answered readily, "Most men don't converse with me either." She raised her glass and took a sip of the clear, green liquid.. "You've had absinthe before, yes? You drink it like you converse with whores for we are rarely separated."

"I have. Whores, for the record, are not the only people who enjoy the green fairy," he teased, setting his own glass down. "I take it then that most people are rather singular with their desires for you?"

She cocked her head, intrigued. "My skills in the bedroom have never been called _singular_ before." She cracked a smile.

Matthieu sighed as he watched her, about to say something until she shushed him.

"Do you really want to spend your time here just talking to a whore? Wouldn't there be better uses of your time...and money?" She leaned into him, fingering the buttons of his coat.

"I could think of a few things..." he purred, pulling her tighter against him. The drinks were going to his head, and he was far less inhibited than he normally would have absinthe was doing as it was supposed to; loosening the man's inhibitions and wallet.

"Please, enlighten me..." She left her mouth open as she pressed her body more firmly into his, completely flushed against him, presenting her lips to him.

He didn't need to ask or say anything, only lean in, kissing her full on the lip,; his hand caressing her cheek. It was a passionate kiss; one that a simple patron didn't just give to a whore he just met.

She moaned into him, loving it. She didn't get passion often. Only really with... but she didn't want to think of _him_ now. She lost herself to the passion he was offering and gave her own back in return.

After a few minutes of their lips dancing together, she pulled back. "The unfortunate discussion of payment." Her expression was almost one of embarrassment.

"Yes, lets have it out then," He said, his voice ragged and impatient. He reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve his wallet. "How much?"

"Twenty francs for one go." Her voice was breathy and she spoke rapidly as if she were as caught up in the pleasure as he was. "Sixty for the night."

He pulled out four 20 franc notes; eighty total; and offer them to her. "Here," he growled, his lips moving back in to capture hers hungrily.

She would have protested, insisted on the correct amount- she honestly would- but her head was swimming at the demanding yet considerate lips consuming her. She shifted until she was straddling his lap and digging her fingers into his hair.

Matthieu shifted back, laying down as he let her straddle him; kissing her hard, those lips escaping to her jaw, down her neck, exploring. "You...are worth every cent..." he gasped; his hands running over her sides, to the ties on the front of the dress.

Colette whimpered into his mouth and ground her body against his hips. She helped to get the gown off and while she shivered in the cold night air, she burned as well as his hands touched her bare shoulders.

He explored what he could in the lamp light, feeling each inch of her. He kissed hard, deeply; full; hands pulling at her corset, trying to undo the straps greedily.

Colette smiled against his lips and helped him untie the corset. With a heavy inhale, she felt her diaphragm release and her ribs opens against the breath. Her shift was strapped and nearly see through- not old, but obviously meant for the male gaze. Her dark nipples pressed against the fabric, begging to be seen.

"You are like an angel..." he gasped, leaning up to kiss her deeply, pulling at the shift; his lips leaping down, kissing her breasts through the material.

Colette moaned aloud yet again and gripped his hair to b press him in closer. She dragged her fingernails down his coat and tried to pull it off of him.

Matthieu growled, removing his jacket as he kissed her neck. Pulling back; he reached for his pants, trying to free himself; of course, only able to do a bit of that while she was still straddling him.

She offered to help by sliding down his legs and straddling his knees , reaching up and unbuttoning his pants, his mouth close to her fingers, breathing onto his recently exposed skin.

Matthieu gasped, his head tilting back as she worked over him. A hand grabbed greedily into her hair, pressing down a bit forcefully. She released him from his pants completely and did not wait for permission before taking him fully in her mouth.

After a few minutes of working him over, she looked up at him, asking with her eyes if he wanted her to continue or to move things along.

Matthieu pulled her up, back on top of him; kissing her hard, giving her the answer she was looking for. "I need you now." He growled against the kisses.

She crossed her arms and grabbed the edges of her chemise, pulling it over her head and exposing her bare breasts. She shimmied a bit on top of his lap to situate his erection between the slit of her pantaloons. she kissed him deeply and sunk down onto him, eliciting a long groan from Matthieu, his hands moving to caress her breasts.

She quivered as he filled her. "God!" She swore, unusually caught in the moment.

Colette rode him like a desperate... well... whore. She met every thrust and and every moan, clinging to him tightly. She dug her nails into his shoulders as she came, screaming wildly into the night.

Matthieu grinned wickedly at that and flipped her onto her back, alternating his strokes from long, slow; teasing motions to heavier, rapid thrusts. As if testing her comfort level, he put a hand around her throat, not squeezing, but seeing if she tensed.

In the back of her Colette's mind was thought of her pimp, of the times she was taken against

her will, of that Ripper in London. But the front of her brain thought only of bliss as his uncalloused, masculine yet smooth hands wrapped around her throat. This man that she didn't know from any client, she somehow trusted completely.

He held her there, gripping firmly but careful not to squeeze to the point of pain. He looked down to her with open eyes, watching her as he thrust. "Yeeesss," she urged as she felt him lose his rhythm. She wanted to hear him roar, so she clamped down the muscles in her pelvis to contract around him and shifted her hips, causing him to cry out and buck wildly.

She was greedy, and he reacted just as she wanted. Finally, he gripped her hips, steady them as he withdrew, stroking himself several times before exploding, staining her body with his seed.

Sagging, Matthieu groaned and would took one of his gloves, offering it to her to clean herself with. "That...That was incredible." He groaned, looking down at her with more affection than someone should for a whore.

His eyes were so dark and deep, it set Colette aback a bit. She did not expect such intensity and it gave her a thrill. She accepted the glove and cleaned herself. She sat up and reached for her shift, pulling it on in silence as he began to dress as well.

"So this is the part where we make awkward conversation about the sex we just had, right?" Matthieu teased, pouring her another drink.

Colette smiled. "If that is what you wish. I've certainly had my fair share of that." She looked at him for a minute, taking her drink and sipping it. "Would you like to share a sandwich and talk of other things? Pierre only makes sandwiches for the whores, but I enjoy company while I eat."

"Certainly. I'd enjoy that," he replied, moving to stand, helping her up. "Come, let's see what everyone has gotten up to inside?"

"Steel yourself, monsieur, it will not be pretty," she joked. "Now wait for a moment, I have a magic trick." She grabbed her corset and wrapped it around herself. She rethreaded a few eyehooks, then twisted it on her body, pulling the straps to the front and crossing them, pulling tight , she continued to wrap the straps around her until they were at her back once more. "Finger on the knot, please?"

Matthieu placed his finger as she asked, smiling; amused by her wit and how swiftly she redressed herself.

With his finger's assistance, she was fully corseted within moments. The dress soon followed and she was ready to return to the loud world of the depraved. Colette grabbed the bottle and examined it. "You drink impressively, monsieur." She smiled. "I like that. Come."

"I have a partner that keeps up, this evening," He responded as he followed her down.

When they re-entered the parlor, the scene would be wild, the men even more drunk than they were before, the women talking them up for larger and larger pay-offs.

"Tried to warn you," she joked smugly as she waltzed to the bar, expertly dodging drunken patrons and leaning over the bar to Pierre. Within minutes, she was given a plate of a sad looking chicken sandwich with wilted lettuce.

"Your friends going to be alright?" She asked as she approached Matthieu.

"They'll be alright. Just need to get him to the church tomorrow," he answered with a laugh. Looking down at the sandwich, he frowned.

"May I make a proposition that may be less than professional, Colette?"

"I'd say we've been wholly professional so far," She teased. "You have me for the rest of the night, monsieur. We can do whatever you like."

"Let me buy you a proper sandwich. "These boys will be fine for a bit; they will hardly miss me."

" _Proper_ sandwich, huh?" she downed her absinthe. "You better make this worth it, businessman. Wasting a Pierre sandwich like that," she agreed with a saucy smile.

Matthieu laughed at that then turned and crossed to one of the gentleman- presumably the best man- speaking to him privately. Laughing, the man clapped him on the back. With that, Matthieu crossed to her, offering her his arm to Colette.

Colette took his arm as if she were a duchess and with head raised high, she allowed him to grandly escort her out of the whorehouse.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

The arrangement

~o~

Mathieu took her to a lovely cafe a few blocks away. "Have you been here before?"

She barked out a laugh. "A cup of espresso here cost almost a full night of work." She pinched his arm with her red-gloved hands. (Which she had put on, along with a hat, as they exited, for a woman would be considered practically naked walking outside with such things!) "I've been kicked out of here a time or two, though."

When they entered, Colette drew in more than a few waitstaff looked at her in suspicion. Matthieu ignored it all as he seated her then took a chair for himself across a small round table. A waiter approached and Mathieu ordered a sandwich, as promised, motioning for Colette to place her order.

She looked a bit overwhelmed, eyes wide and breathing quick. "I um... An espresso. Please. And the same as him. Meri."

Matthieu noticed the wide eyes and he arched his brow. "Are you alright?"

"How the other side lives, " She joked weakly. "I'm not used to be be treated like... I've never gotten coffee over a trick before."

"A trick? What a curious word for what this was," he commented, smiling as their coffee arrived.

"I suppose every social group has their own jargon," She said wisely. She spoke with a surprisingly wide vocabulary and her street accent was not too far from traditional parisian french. She took a sip of her espresso and closed her eyes, reveling in the bitter drink warming her throat. "Mmm. This is heavenly."

He sipped as well, sighing in satisfaction. "This is true," he mentioned, looking down. He was a bit awkward, and did his best to make conversation.

She smiled warmly at his quietness. . "Tell me about your business."

Colette was as intelligent and informed as she sounded, much to Matthieu's surprise. They talked through the night, equally enjoying each other's company. They closed down the cafe and and Colette found that she was sad to leave such a beautiful atmosphere.

Matthieu for his part found her to be absolutely beautiful and charming, witty and clever. As they left, he sighed, not wanting the evening to end. "Well, I wonder how my comrades are. I'd rather not part with you in favor of that company."

She lowered her eyelids and looked up at him. "You technically have me until the morning. There's a couple more hours left until dawn."

"I...well...Let's...see how my friends are.." He murmured, walking back into the shotty whorehouse.

The parlor was much more quiet, men either having retired to a bedroom with a girl or passed out in the a corner. Thankfully, Matthieu was able to find the best man, who looked reasonably well, and was able to ensure the groom's safe passage home.

Walking back to Colette, he smiled. "All is clear.."

Colette smiled her genuine smile at him. "I've shown you yours. How about you show me mine." She laughed at the face she made. "If you didn't enjoy the quality of my sandwiches, you definitely won't be impressed with my quarters!" She paused. "If you wish to be discreet, I can show you a number of fine hotels in the area."

"I've no need to be discreet," he answered quickly , giving her a confident smile. Pausing, he glanced down, considering his options as he spoke. "Gather your things to change clothes properly in the morning, and I will call for my carriage."

Her smile grew to its biggest size yet. She nodded and trampled up the stairs, coming down with a bag only minutes later.

By that time, a personal carriage pulled up, a dormant descending from the driver's seat to open the door for them. Moments later they would be enroute to a particularly upper class part of town.

She enjoyed his company but nothing could keep her eyes from being glued to the open window as they sped away from the slums and into the world of the rich. She couldn't remember the last time she saw these streets.

They pulled into the 9th arrondissement, an extraordinarily posh square filled with new money. The carriage stopped out of a large house on a street filled with connected homes.

The driver opened the door to help her out, but she did not get out of the carriage. She shrank back in intimidation, shaking her head. "No, no. People this rich go to their own brothels. Not to scum. I... I. Can't come here"

He put a finger over her lips, offering her his hands. "Shh. You are far from scum. Come, please." He led her by the hand, easing her out of the carriage. She hesitated, but ultimately obeyed and took his hand, letting him peel her from the carriage seat.

The building was beautiful, but the surroundings were breathtaking. She had seen drawings of L'eglise de la Trinite, but here it towered above her a block away. The overhang of the apartment had a door man wearing clothing more expensive than her entire wardrobe.

It was thoroughly overwhelming.

Matthieu guided her inside, ascending stairs to an opulent drawing room. "Unless you announce to the world that you are scum, no one would consider you so." He reached for a crystal decanter filled with cognac and poured two glasses, offering her one.

Colette looked around, slack jawed at everything. She was afraid to touch the handrails, so she clutched her bag while ascending the beautiful spiral staircase. The drawing room itself was bigger than her and her sister quarters all combined!

She took the crystal glass, holding it as if it were worth her entire life- with how it sparkled, it probably was.

"You.. are a very surprising man, monsieur. I apologize if I have been behaving or addressing you inappropriately. I had no idea.." she trailed off.

"Nonsense. I've been very fond of you. You see, I don't have time to court, or see women frequently. My business has me on location so often. This weekend, this wedding is the first time I've gotten out in years."

"Surely any upscale mistress would fight like a dog to be under your employ," she commented, sipping her drink. God, even the alcohol was of the finest quality!

"I find them fleeting. No one stays for long," he replied, taking a sip. "What Of you? Surely you could be doing better than working in a slum with a men who beat you." He said, motioning faintly to the cut on her forehead.

She self-consciously touched her wound. Her already painted cheeks colored with embarrassment. "Not my lot in life," she said, turning away and studying a beautiful painting of a hunting dog.

Matthieu frowned at that and took a step towards her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I am sorry, I should not have asked that," he said, his tone apologetic.

She looked over her shoulder with a sad smile. " _C'est la vie_ , _Monsieur_. _C'est la vie_." She stepped away to look at the other artwork surrounding her. He was obviously a very art-inclined man. Or his wife was. She was completely consumed in the beautiful painting and statues surrounding her and she took time to look at each one, asking the history of them with a passion similar to a starving scholar.

He took a step closer toward her, falling quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I...I have another proposition for you...and I will understand if it falls beyond what you are permitted to do."

She turned to him with raised eyebrows. "There are a few things I refuse to do, but as long as the price is right, I can do nearly anything you wish."

"This wedding. I am in need of a companion to go with me. I do not wish to entertain questions of when I am going to settle down or any other inquiry of that sort. How much would it be to employ your service until the end of the week?"

She nearly dropped that beautiful glass in her hands. She turned slowly to face him completely. . "As in... nightly? I... don't have transportation, you would have to provide me with a ride to and from my quarters every night..." she said with reluctance.

"Uh...no, days also...you would stay here, residing here until Monday morning, when you would then be free to go about your business," he explained, holding her gaze, his tone cautious.

Colette's mouth opened to respond, but no words came out.

"I-" she continued eventually, "I honestly have no idea." She laughed incredulously. "On a good night, I make 200 francs. I suppose that plus food and lodgings would be fair...does that sound.. amenable to you?"

"That seems a little low, does it not? Surely you would have downtime during those nights, while this will be a more full time affair...250 sounds more reasonable."

Eyes wide, Colette choked out something resembling an affirmative answer.

"Then it is settled," Matthieu offered with a nod, tracing his hands over her shoulders; pulling her a bit closer.

"To be honest, I was expecting you to ask me to pee on you or something," she teased, some color coming back into her.

Matthieu barked out a laugh. "Truly? What is the most outlandish request you have ever been asked?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

She thought about it, then met his gaze head on. "Can we make this arrangement official before I tell you?"

Matthieu swallowed. "Certainly," he answered, reaching into his wallet; counting out and offering her the money.

Colette politely accepted the money and discreetly tucked it in her bag. She looked up without embarrassment , her sarcastic smirk back on her face.

"Willingly? I've impersonated too many women to count. I've peed on my fair share of men, but draw the line at them pissing on me. ... unwillingly? I've had shit shoved into my face." She held her head high as she gauged his reaction.

He blinked a few times, half surprised, half amused. "People never cease to amaze me with their proclivities," he murmured.

"You've no idea the debasement of men's souls. I'm considered a prude and lose much money because of it. Are you still interested?"

"Absolutely. I...do not see why it is looked at that a woman's value decreases with her sexual experience. It makes little sense to me why I would want a lover who is inexperienced and timid," he offered, sipping his drink.

"Again, you've been missing out on the bourgeoisie mistresses," she teased. "What would be expected of me these next few days? Shall I crash course in Russian dining styles?"

"Nothing that extravagant. Paris upper class; as eclectic as that may be." Matthieu explained. turning to lead her up the stairs once more, taking her through the house.

The rest of the townhouse was as stunning and overwhelmingly _large_ as the study. The bedroom she was shown was in rich blues, the color, coincidentally, matching and bringing out the blue in her eyes. The four poster bed was draped in silk and the room was similarly decorated in fine classical art.

"The master bedroom." Matthieu said grandly, giving her a sly grin. "I hope you do not tire of these lodgings," he teased, reaching to take her hand.

"You wish me to stay in the same room as yourself'!?" She laughed in surprise, "I hope _you_ do not grow bored of _me_ in all that time."

"I highly doubt that." He pulled her toward him. "I plan on taking advantage of every moment with you," he whispered in her ear, his hands moving lower, grabbing her ass through the thick skirts. .

"Oh, really," she purred, leaning toward him, brushing the fabric against his chest with her breasts. She dropped the bag she has been crushing and responded immediately with sexual movements and gestures. Truth be told, although she was trained to automatically react thusly when a man came onto her, the twinges in her lower belly told her it was more than simply automatic response with this man.

Matthieu took two steps backwards, pulling her towards the bed, turning and pushing her back onto it. He took off his jacket and tie, looking down over her, sizing her up like a wolf stalking its prey.

She raised her chin, baring her throat like a submissive animal, spreading her body out over the bed. She lifted a hand to her hair, unpinning the hat and letting her hair fall down in tumultuous brunette waves.

He pulled at her gloves, removing them as he searched for the buttons of her dress, working at removing them as fast as he could.

Colette did not help him this time around. Instead, she lay spread and arched, Making pleasing mews at his administrations.

Matthieu appreciated the work that he had to put in to remove the dress. The corset came next with him untying it and rolling her over onto her stomach so he could pull it from her.

She let his hands undress her, rolling and pushing her this way and that, until she was fully nude for the first time in front of him. Her body hair was slight-almost nonexistent- and her rounded curves were pale in the dim electric lighting.

"You're beautiful," Matthieu breathed. He removed his own clothing ,and climbed on the bed, moving over her, kissing her deeply as she clutched desperately to him.

They made love- Colette didn't know what else to call it. Aside from the beautiful hands of Erik caressing her body like it was something special, she rarely had moments where "sex" just didn't seem accurate enough. After finishing, she immediately clung on to him and fell into a peaceful sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

The Shopping Trip

~o~

The next morning Matthieu woke in his own bed, nude and alone. His head pounded; he had drank quite a bit last night. Memory was fuzzy...but he was certain he had asked a whore to be his date to the wedding.

The sheets were still warm and it took only a minute for Colette to walk in from the washing room with her crystal glass filled with water. She stood completely nude without a hint of embarrassment. She hadn't bathed, but had washed the garish make-up off of her face, revealing a very pretty face with sharp blue eyes and a wild mane of hair flowing down her back.

She walked slowly to the man in the bed, the light silhouetting her body like a divine being. When she reached the bed, she extended her arm, offering him the glass of water.

Matthieu sat up slowly, watching her as she looked like a goddess in the morning light. "Good morning. You look more beautiful than you did last night...Normally, it's the other way around." He took the glass and sipped from it.

Colette smiled at him with her masking sarcastic smirk. "I've had a lot of practice." She sat down on the bed and watched him empty the glass.

"You slept well then, I trust?" He asked, reaching out and pulling her back into the sheets.

"I could sleep in a bag of potatoes and have a decent sleep. This though," she laughed and gestured to the room around her, "forces one to sleep exquisitely. "

"Good, you deserved it. You worked very hard last night," he teased then rose, crossing to a closet and removing two elegant maroon robes, offering one to her. "Now, then, breakfast," he announced,, waiting until she was robed to pick up a small bell, ringing it.

Colette startled and when a man in a starched uniform entered, she shrank back a bit, looking to Matthieu for some sign that she was supposed to hide.

The servant looked between them, a neutral smile on his face.

"Breakfast will be for two this morning. And could you please prepare a bath for Mlle. Colette this morning?" Matthieu dismissed the man, unaware of the tension.

Colette bit her lip, smiling awkwardly at the departing servant. The moment the door closed, she spun toward him with a pure delight in her eyes. "A real bath? Liked a full one with hot water and petals and oils, made for only one person! Some of the girls talk about them- I've never even seen one!" She was like a little girl, bouncing on the pads of her feet.

Matthieu laughed at her reaction. "Yes, that is what I am thinking of." He turned toward the door when the servant reentered with a tray of coffee and towels folded over his arms.

"Would the lady prefer jasmine or lavender salts for the bath?" the servant asked Colette in a polite, distant voice.

Colette looked at the man with a blank expression. She turned to Matthieu with a small degree of alarm in her eyes.

"Lavender, if you will," Matthieu answered for her, the butler nodding and exiting to draw the bath.

Colette snorted, still smiling. "I know you just want me clean, but I feel like I should pay you for this."

"This is part of our agreement. You are at my service until Monday, and this is how I wish to spend that time," Matthieu reminded her, moving to her and kissing her on the lips slowly.

She hummed and lifted her jaw, providing him with better access to her lips. Hands greedily reached for the tie in his robe, wanting to fondle him wantonly.

He groaned as she pulled open the robe and kissed her deeper; pushing her back onto the bed.

"We are going to have a late start this morning...Then I am going to send you shopping."

She stopped her administrations, looking at him with even more surprise. "For... things for me?"

"Yes, you are to dress so that you can pass as a lady from this neck of the woods. You are my partner to the wedding, after all; you'll have to look the part," he explained, gazing down at her.

Her grin widened and she popped up, flipping him onto his back and diving down past his waste to take him completely in her mouth and feeling in grow and stretch inside her cheeks.

She did not see the man coming out of the water closet, nor hear the discreet cough.

Matthieu saw the man enter and raised a finger to his lips, not wanting her to stop or be startled by his presence.

When the man nodded and left quietly, he'd groan, bucking his hips against her. "Your bath is ready, you know.."

"Mmmm should I stop, Monsieur?" She asked, her lips vibrating against his soft skin.

"No...not at all.." He grunted, now quite hard in her mouth; his gaze locked down, adoring the look of her in that natural position.

She descended upon him with vigor, now working him with urgency, giving him no relief until he came violently in her mouth.

Matthieu groaned, spent. He wanted to return the favor, so he pulled her up by her hair, throwing her down on her back. The robe was parted and he kissed down her exposed flesh; until he was teasing and toying with her; pleasing her with his mouth.

Colette groaned and bucked against him. It was also unusual for a man to give oral when on a dime. The notable exception was Master Erik, who pleasured her in various, creative ways to completion every time. But she didn't want to think of him now.

When it was her turn to lose herself in her passion, Matthieu rose and looked upon her spread body, an entirely self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Greedy bastard," she accused softly, her smile woozy and genuine. "I suppose this dirty girl definitely needs her bath now.

"I would say that you do. Go now, before the water grows cold," Matthieu urged before, fixing the robe back around himself and gestured for her to follow.

Colette had spent a little bit of time in the bathroom before he had awakened. But now the tub, being filled with bubbles and steaming water, almost had her collapsing in a weeping mess. She ran her

fingers across the bubbles with a soft smile on her face.

Matthieu watched her with a grin, tracing a hand over her arm. "Here we are," he said as he crossed behind her, pulling her robe off of her shoulders.

She jumped and turned her head in surprise. "Oh! This is for you. I'm sorry. I'm so foolish, of course." A disappointed expression crossed her face. .

He shook his head. "No, it's for you. I'm just helping you get ready. This is your first bath after all," he teased with a salacious grin, dropping the robe behind him.

"Oh!" She whispered. She had never heard of washing oneself as a sexual experience. Had never even thought of it with all of the cold sponge baths with filthy water she'd had all of her life.

He helped her into the bath. "Relax, enjoy yourself," he said, "I won't fuck you at every corner, unless you'd like, " he toyed, kissing her neck.

Colette shivered at both the heat of the water and his sensual touch of his lips. She reached up and grabbed his hand.

They spent the next minutes like that, her shivering at his touches and him helping her clean every inch of her body. It was one of the sexiest thing she'd ever encountered.

When they finished, he helped her out, offering her an obnoxiously fluffy towel to dry out with. "Come, breakfast should be ready soon. After last night, I figure we both need it."

Colette'ssmile did not drop from her face the entire time. She redonned the one clean day dress she owned, having brought it with her the night before. It was embarrassingly ten years past its fashion expiration (what a sin in grand Paris!) and an ugly shade of brown. She joined him for the most decadent breakfast of her life. There was more food on her plate than what she usually ate all day. She did her best to appear lady-like and polite, but it had been so long since she even thought of such things.

She was a bit rough around the edges, and Matthieu liked her for that. She was so different from the other women he had spent time with: all of them usually so obsessed with impressing him, or conning him into marriage. No, she was different; genuinely grateful for the good things she was experiencing, and that was truly refreshing to him.

Colette nearly bumped the arm of the servant twice as he silently approached from behind to refill her glass. She only spilled a small bit of champagne on the white table cloth. No one burst out laughing at her expense nor was she kicked out of the place. All in all, a success in her book.

As they finished breakfast, Matthieu spoke. "I'll give you a bit of money. You are to use it for suitable clothes for the weekend. Please, do not spare any expenses. It is important that you look like you could fit in at such an event."

Colette nodded, nervous. "Where will you be?" she asked insecurely.

He arched a brow. "Would it...make you more comfortable if I were to go with you?" He asked, revealing a naivety on such matters.

"I… No. There is no reason to trouble you with such trivialities." She forced a smile and stood to prepare for her trip, grabbing and holding her oversized, red bag to her chest like a shield.

Matthieu smiled to her, not noticing her insecurity. "Good, I have some business to attend to, but I will be back relatively soon, if you have any trouble."

Colette's returning smile was tense.

The hansom carriage was even more decadent in the sunlight and Colette felt like she was soiling the velvet seats by sitting on them and the wad of bills in her hand felt criminally wrong.

Less than an hour later, she was back at his apartment , running up the stairs and falling into his bed, weeping loudly. She refused to talk to the butler or the servants about what was wrong. She simply stayed face down in the covers, staining them with a substantial amount of tears.

Matthieu returned not long after to the worried faces of the staff. He was directed to his bedroom and upon entering, found Colette still weeping in his bed.

"Colette, what on earth is the matter?" He asked, frowning and rushing to her "Are you hurt?"

She refused to turn over or even look at him. "You are a fool, monsieur, for thinking garbage like me can pass for a lady!"

He arched a brow. "That is nonsense. What do you mean?"

She rolled over, looking at him with tragic, puffy eyes. "I was called horse dung and kicked out for stinking up the store and staining the carpet with my presence. Monsieur, they are not wrong. I am not what you wish me to be."

"That was...Dramatic on their part," he sighed then reached to take her hand. "Come, clean yourself up. I will go with you, which should clear up any misunderstandings."

"You are a daft man, monsieur," she sighed, but obeyed. She washed her face and tidied her hair. While her eyes remained puffy, her lips now had an attractive swell to them and her cheeks were stained with pink, reminiscent of the make up she wore last night.

"I am a man who sees the potential in others," he said firmly.

Reluctantly, Colette guided Matthieu to the that was lined with wealthy, boutique, fashion stores. She sniffed and pointed to one advertising golden ball gowns. "They were the ones who kicked me out. The ladies in the other shops were laughing at me."

"Their loss to be sure. We move on to fairer pastures. Besides, that one is middling, at best," he commented as he led her towards a much higher end boutique two doors down, opening the door for her to enter first.

They were immediately approached by a manager who eyed the curious couple with interest. Matthieu immediately pulled him over to the side, having a very serious and quiet conversation with him. As she watched, she could practically see the dollar (or, well, franc) signs growing in the manager's eyes.

When they returned, the manager spoke directly to her; a grin on his face. "Mademoiselle; it is our honor to serve you today. What are you looking for?" He lead her deeper into the boutique; his hands waving towards several sales girls to assist him.

Her eyes widened for the tenth time just this morning and looked back at Matthieu, lost at what to say.

"I believe she is looking for clothes for the weekend. She will be attending a wedding, and everything associated with," Matthieu supplied.

"Ah, yes, perfect; we have exactly the things for you!" The girls swiftly pulled her into a dressing room where she was promptly stripped and measured.

"Oh! Dear!" She might have been a whore, but she was not used to being so manhandled by so many people at once! They pulled and tugged and nipped and tucked. She felt like a doll in the hands of a toddler. Five dresses (Five! She would barely be in this rouse 3 days!) later, she ended in a turquoise day dress with silver and dark blue patterns. She walked into the main waiting room, looking like a zombie, completely overwhelmed with the goings on. She looked to Matthieu for help and found a stunned expression.

Matthieu struggled to give her a reassuring smile. This was not something she needed to be rescued from, rather; it was something that she needed to embrace for as she walked into the room with such natural grace, she looked no less than a queen.

"Ah! Look at how beautiful this young lady is! Look at the way the blue causes her striking eyes to glow! Look how tiny her waist is and how healthy her hair! Yes, Monsieur, your lady here is a gem!" The manager gushed over her, clapping like a child. She gave him an insure smile which he took as time to move on. "Now! Hats!" He pushed her over to the hat section. Then The glove section. Then the jewelry.

Three full hours later, Colette stood, a completely overwhelmed, shaking woman of enviable beauty and prestige.

Matthieu was grateful for the champagne they provided, as he was pacing back and forth for most of it. Truly, the boutique was having a field day with her, as she really did look the part of an elegant trophy wife for an older, well-respected, gentleman. Things were boxed up and made ready to be shipped to his home as they went.

She did not speak until they were in the carriage going home. "You are a crazy man, monsieur. And I am intensely grateful for it. I've never been in a corset that hasn't pinched my skin raw before."

"That's because you've never had one that actually fit," he replied to her. "How are you holding up? That was quite the ordeal, even for me, a spectator."

"At least you were not yanked on at every angle and measured down to every inch. I've been in orgies that would have filled that room, and I never felt so ... probed!"

Matthieu chuckled at that. "You make it sound as if it was running the gauntlet. Surely, it was not that bad?"

"You'd faint at the very prospect," she teased back.

He fell silent for a moment, before speaking again. "What is it like...The orgies and the parties?" He paused, his question more genuine and good naturedly curious than insulting. "Was any of it ever enjoyable?"

She was silent, seriously considering the question. "...the money was enjoyable." She shrugged, "I understand why so many desire them. They are freeing, selfish yet giving. A way to escape the chains of culture without having to retreat from other people who are suffocating as much as you... I would probably enjoy one if I wasn't paid to be there ." She looked at him with her small, sarcastic smile. "Hard to feel free when you are employed to do so."

They continued in silence until the carriage stopped in front of his residence. "What should I be expecting this week, Monsieur? " she asked as he helped her out of the carriage.

"A wedding Saturday morning, followed by a reception in the evening. Following that, on Sunday, a garden party. This evening there will be a dinner following a rehearsal of the wedding service." Matthieu explained as they entered the building.

She nodded. "I er... got this while I was out before.," she held out a book on etiquette and Parisien culture. "And yes," she added, "there are whores who can read. It makes it harder to be swindled," she added with sarcastic humor.

He laughed at that, shaking his head. "Well, you have some reading to do before this evening. Of course, I trust your natural charms will suffice if you do not wish to waste your time." It was obvious that he cared less than a great deal for formalities such as table etiquette and utensil order.

She shook her head at that, smiling. "Whatever your pleasure is, Monsieur. "

The calm of her smile and the pace at which she left for the drawing room did not fit what one would see in the bedroom minutes later. The next couple of hours had her pacing frantically, pulling at her curls and arguing aloud at herself and the book. She nearly threw the damned thing a few times! The waiter who brought her a small lunch and wine basically ran out our of the room in tears.

When the clock struck early evening, Colette gave up her cramming for the day and set to make her hair somewhat presentable. Asking a maid, it only took a few minutes before she had magazine clippings of the hairstyles of the day strewn before a vanity mirror . Against better judgement, she did take a bit of rouge and dabbed it subtly on her cheeks and lips, just enough to give her a bit of a flush. An evening shawl over her blue dress and sapphires around her neck, she was ready for the night.

Matthieu was waiting for her in the drawing room, wearing an elegantly well-tailored suit. He smiled to her, offering his arm to escort her out into the hall. As she approached, he studied her quite carefully, obviously taken by her beauty and grace. She did more than simply clean up well, she revealed an entire level to her that transcended her state in life.

Her thoughts were much the same; with the background of gorgeous art and splendor, the man fit in perfectly with his chiseled physique and distinguished face. She thought, for a moment, that she was looking at an intricate tapestry.

Matthieu spoke quietly, giving her a warm, affectionate, smile. "You look ravishing. Simply gorgeous." He replied, kissing her hand, holding her gaze as he did so.

She blushed prettily. "Just kick me any time I do something gauche," she responded practically.

"I'm certain you will be fine, " he reassured her as they arrived at the church where the rehearsal was to be.

It was a dry, slow affair; the priest taking this whole thing terribly seriously. Colette sat in the back pew and tried not to fidget as they spoke of devotion and commitment. She remembered the groom the prior night, his raucous and familiar behavior around the whorehouse. She did not question whether he would be back again after the honeymoon.

There was a moment's pause before she and Matthieu were to leave for the dinner at an exclusive restaurant nearby. It was in this moment that he pulled her aside, speaking in a low tone.

"It has struck me that we have not discussed at all your identity."

Her lips pressed together. "If you permit me... use the name Beauharnais. An old noble family from

Brittany. They have enough loose ends, no one would be able to confirm me one way or the other."

"Perfect. As clever as you are beautiful," he complimented, drawing her back out towards the carriage, on their way to the restaurant.


End file.
